


Loud

by heartswells



Series: Micro-Story Prompts [4]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, M/M, Prompt: Too Loud, Sensory Overload, Sensory Overstimulation, manic depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 20:42:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13326126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartswells/pseuds/heartswells
Summary: He felt like a body of barbed wire, a spindly promise of pain. He didn’t want to be touched, didn’t want to be loved.





	Loud

**Author's Note:**

> it never ends.

“It’s just so loud—” Each syllable was spit from his lips like a mouthful of glass, scratching his teeth and lacerating his gums, filling him with a bitter taste like iron. The sheets rustled as Tyler pulled Ethan closer into his chest.

  
  


However, Ethan grunted and turned away, a sudden flare of irritation wracking him. The warmth of Tyler’s body and the tenderness of the intentions felt grotesque, felt ingenuine and infuriating, like an insult and a misunderstanding. He felt like a body of barbed wire, a spindly promise of pain. He didn’t want to be touched, didn’t want to be loved. He didn’t deserve it. Didn’t need it. Didn’t crave it.

  
  


“What’s so loud, Ethan?”

  
  


The stickiness of sex was festering on Ethan’s skin: sweat, and spit, and cum, all coldly curdling. Yet, his body still screamed; lust was still voltaic in his body, an insuppressible desideratum like a burn boiling beneath the skin. He felt the weight of his body, the neurosis that begged for sex and sleep, adrenaline and destruction. Worse, he felt the weight of awakeness.

  
  


It was blinding and deafening, the echoes of a million voices sputtering with too much vehemence and loudness to be discernible. It was like standing before a church congregation that demanded his execution, leaving him slandered and degraded, his flesh shredded open by their rioting hands. It was a loudness like Achilles’ laments as he cherished Patroclus, soaked in his weeping blood. It was a loudness like mangled pieces of flesh strewn about the floor claiming to be one person.

  
  


It was a loudness like the body, inescapable and failing.

  
  


“Nothing,” he said.

  
  


Tyler didn’t reply.

 


End file.
